


August Sky

by owlpockets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlpockets/pseuds/owlpockets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly four months after Dean showed up on her doorstep, Lisa is still trying to process what happened to him and how much her world has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	August Sky

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt, "If people only knew". Written for spnraritiesfest at LJ. This is my best guess at the timeline, so apologies if it's not quite right.

“Early retirement can be hard on some people,” her therapist had placated the second and last time she had gone to see him. Lisa went secretly, knowing Dean would never acquiesce to join her. She told the doctor a pack of lies about her boyfriend, the injured veteran, having trouble readjusting to life stateside. All of them were part truth, but Lisa ran out of words. She couldn’t make the doctor understand something she didn’t understand herself.

Lisa left the office feeling as if she wasted a hard earned two hundred bucks, and drove to work. The weather was particularly mild for August, and she was hosting a special summer workshop at the park along the reservoir.

Lisa arrived twenty minutes early, but Haley, her long-time friend, was already there setting up. Haley was rail-thin with a perky short haircut. She was also a committed vegan, married to a pediatrician, and could highlight her hair with just lemon juice, all things Lisa secretly sometimes resented her for when she was feeling petty and overwhelmed. Overall, though, Haley was likeable and caring, if a little naïve. “Hi, Hal,” Lisa greeted with a little wave and a weak smile that she was sure didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be here so early.”

Naturally, Haley caught on to Lisa’s mood right away. Lisa wished she had remembered to put a little make-up under her eyes before leaving the house that morning. “I had some extra time. You don’t look too good. What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I just haven’t been sleeping all that well lately. Guess I haven’t gotten used to an extra person in the house yet.” Understatement of the year—Dean had woken her up either thrashing or talking in his sleep or both every night for a month. The first couple of weeks were quiet while he slept up to eighteen hours a day, but that was over. Lisa, curious, originally tried to listen to what Dean would talk about in his sleep, but now she tried very hard not to hear. The parts that weren’t completely nonsensical made her stomach turn.

Haley pursed her delicate lips and frowned. “I’ve never known you to be a poor sleeper, especially with all the extra work you’ve picked up.” The _to support that deadbeat boyfriend of yours_ went unsaid but was heavily implied. Lisa resisted rolling her eyes. The one time she had tried to take Dean out for some socializing was with Haley and her husband Tom. Dean spent part of it hiding in the bathroom and the rest eyeing Tom mistrustfully. He wouldn’t tell Lisa why, and she hadn’t pushed.

She shrugged, and sat on the grass, legs V-ed out and barefoot, to unpack her bag. “I’m sure it will pass.”

Haley didn't look convinced that everything was normal, an astute observation, but there was nothing Lisa could tell her that wouldn’t make her sound crazy or cast Dean in an even worse light in her friend’s eyes. “Well, you know I'm always around if you want to talk.”

“Sure, I know that,” Lisa smiled, more genuinely this time. “Thanks, Haley. Ready to warm up?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Haley joined her on the grass and they mirrored each others’ postures, moving slowly under the warm sun until the students started arriving. After Ben, yoga was her home and her balance. She started teaching it to pay the bills, but Lisa would have continued practicing after having her baby anyway, clinging to the repetition and each measured breath like starvation rations when her life seemed to be falling apart. The workshop was an hour and a half with a fair number of beginners, but she wasn’t busy enough to stop thinking.

Afterward, she and Haley lay in the shade in _savasana_ , and Lisa’s mind wandered while she attempted to relax her body, the grass soothing and cool under her back and exposed calves. So many people in Indiana alone and only a marginal amount knew what she knew. Fewer still had first-hand knowledge and only one had actually been there. The A-word was still taboo even to her private thoughts; were they just not supposed to talk about it? Ever? If she felt this exhausted merely knowing, she couldn’t imagine how Dean felt. In the car, she turned on her Little Earthquakes CD and thought about being sixteen while she took the long way home. She tried to remember how it felt to think curfews and getting dumped by a boyfriend of two weeks were the be all and end all of life’s threats, back before she met Dean and the future changed without her knowing, but it played like a bad teen movie in her head.

Ben was just getting home from school when Lisa pulled up, and Dean was sitting on the porch waiting for him with something brown in a glass. From the distance where she stood at the edge of the driveway she could pretend it was Coke. When Ben saw Lisa get out of the car, he dropped his bag and bounded out to greet her instead. “Mom! I got a B on my math test,” he told her breathlessly, cheeks coloring with pride. “And…um…Ms. Flannery wants you to call her today, I think.”

Lisa took a moment to inhale and process what her son had told her, savoring his victory. The grade was good, especially since Ben had been struggling with math. She had Dean to thank for that, since he was home all the time to help Ben with his homework. “That’s wonderful, sweetie. I’m so proud of you,” she said, giving him a quick squeeze. “Now, go inside and put your bag upstairs. I’ll make you a snack.”

Ben nodded, grinning at Dean as he passed through the door. Dean grinned back. God, he looked awful, Lisa thought as she followed behind. The circles under his eyes looked dark enough to be bruises. Dean was never particularly glowing, but now he just looked sick all the time. Lisa didn’t like the constant drinking, especially around Ben, but she didn’t quite have the heart to tell him enough was enough. Soon, she would have to or risk losing him, but she felt she owed Dean the chance to get better on his own. So many ways he might slip through her fingers—some days Lisa felt she was grasping at straws—but Dean deserved patience and understanding.

“Hey, thanks for helping Ben with his homework. It’s good for him to be proud of himself for something.” Lisa settled on the floor against Dean’s knees, knowing she should call the school, but the little bit of calm was too enticing. He reached down and carefully started pulling her long, tangled hair back. She never told him, but she loved to have her hair played with. Dean had a sixth sense for things like that.

He scoffed, but Lisa knew he was pleased too. “It’s nothing.”

“He really looks up to you, it’s not nothing.” Lisa closed her eyes while Dean’s fingers twisted locks of her hair around and around. “Ms. Flannery wants to talk to me on the phone for some bizarre reason.”

“Who?” Dean asked absently.

He had trouble remembering little details sometimes, like the names of Ben’s friends’ parents or how much deli meat to buy at the store. She couldn’t blame him this time—Ms. Flannery was one of her least favorite people, nosey to a fault. “Ben’s teacher.”

“Oh.” Dean stopped and pulled gently back on her hair, pressing his lips briefly to her forehead. She could smell the drink on him, even though it was mid-afternoon. “That’s probably not good, coming from that bitch. Someone from the school called earlier, too. They wouldn’t talk to me, though.”

Normally, Lisa might have protested Dean’s candid use of the word, but he was right. Nothing good could ever come of a home phone call with Ms. Flannery. She sighed and got up, fervently hoping it wasn’t anything bad. “Great, just what I wanted to do tonight. I should get this over with. Why can’t she schedule a meeting like all the other teachers?”

Dean caught her wrist and tugged her back until she returned the kiss. “I’ll make dinner tonight, okay? My treat to you for braving the Ninth Circle of Flannery alone.”

Lisa couldn’t dam the chortle that erupted from her throat. “You are terrible. Okay, I’m going. That dinner better be ready by the time I’m done.”

“Yes, boss.” Dean let her go reluctantly, picking up the glass and rising to follow.

Lisa kicked off her shoes at the door, and left her bag by the stairs before moving into the kitchen. She fixed a plate of baby carrots with dip for Ben, and carried it carefully up the stairs. “Ben, here’s your snack,” she announced before pushing the door inward.

“Thanks, mom.” Ben was stretched out on his bed, looking at a Batman comic book instead of his homework. Lisa decided not to say anything, thinking he deserved a break after working so hard to get a good grade on his math test. Instantly he dug into the carrots, starving as always.

“Is…is there anything else I can get you, sweetie?” Lisa bit her lip. What she wanted to say was _is there anything I should know before calling Ms. Flannery?_ , but as Ben was unlikely to admit the whole truth if it was something besides the sudden improvement, there was no point. It was a moment of weakness, letting it go, but she would find out soon enough.

“Nope, I’m good,” Ben answered cheerfully. He was acting as normal, that was reassuring.

The phone was sitting on the counter where she’d left it after calling Haley that morning when Lisa returned to the kitchen. With her finger poised above the number pad she took a moment to breathe, calm herself, and imagine some distance between her and the problem. She then dialed with purpose, determined not to let whatever Ms. Flannery had to say ruin the rest of her day. “Hello, Ms. Flannery? This is Lisa Braeden. You wanted to talk to me about Ben?” On several occasions she had requested Lisa call her by her given name, but she exuded such a school marm disciplinarian image that it was impossible to refer to her as anything but Ms. Flannery.

The sour voice on the other end was unmistakable Flannery. _“Yes, hello. I apologize for this unorthodox arrangement, but I felt the issue couldn’t wait until Monday, and we were unable to reach you during the day. We may have a problem. Your son got into a fight during afternoon recess today.”_ _Your _son. Way to shift the blame, Lisa thought with an inward sigh.__

 _“Did he?” Lisa replied noncommittally. “Who with?”_

 _ _“Derek Griffith. Fortunately, neither boy was injured. However, it pains me to see such a promising student as Ben involved in such incidents.”_ Ms. Flannery paused, clearly waiting for a reaction. Derek Griffith was large child with meaty hands and older than Ben; she knew the kid was mean-tempered and a blossoming bully._

It pained _her_? Lisa resisted the urge to laugh into the receiver and took another breath. “Thank you, Ms. Flannery. I will talk to him.”

 _“Very good. Thank you for your time, Miss Braeden. Goodbye.”_ Her tone was clipped, clearly unhappy with the outcome of the conversation since Lisa was unwilling to show any sign of indignation or upset.

“Bye,” Lisa said as an afterthought, thought it seemed the connection was already lost. The ‘miss’ rang in her ears, a label Ms. Flannery seemed to like using as a weapon against her, a biting comment on her lifestyle. Lisa really, really disliked that woman. She dropped the phone back on the counter and turned to lean against the edge, rubbing both hands over her face and back through her hair. The urge to laugh hadn’t left, and she did, while Dean watched her sidelong from the stove.

“What’d she want?”

“I don’t know. Ben got into a fight at school. I said I would talk to him.” Lisa wondered if maybe it wasn’t fine for her boy to be docile and conforming like the public school system preferred. She thought about the stories Dean told her from his childhood once, about how Sam could take apart a boy twice his size by age twelve. But Dean wasn’t his father; he wasn’t willing to expose Ben to anything other than the normal childhood he was denied.

Lisa realized she’d been quiet for too long when she noticed Dean staring at her, expectantly waiting for a follow up. He didn’t seem terribly surprised by the revelation from Ms. Flannery, but, as usual, never presumed to know what’s best for Ben. Lisa wasn’t sure if she was grateful for his deference or wished he would step in sometimes. “Do you think I should ground him?”

Dean shrugged as he stirred the sauce fixings, frowning thoughtfully. “Maybe…” He cut himself off. The ‘but’ hung in the air like a blinking sign.

“But…?” Lisa encouraged him to say what he wanted to say. Dean’s characteristic confidence was conviction and bluster that he didn’t have the energy for anymore, but if this life was going to work she needed him to start participating.

“Maybe we should hear his side first? I mean, what if this other kid jumped him from around a corner or something? Can’t blame him for defending himself,” Dean finally finished.

She hadn’t known what she was expecting him to say, and the rationality of the sentiment was hard to disagree with. “You know what, you’re right. We'll talk to him at dinner, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” If Dean was pleased to be included in a family decision, Lisa couldn’t tell. She took the two steps over to the stove and put her arms around his waist and a kiss on his left shoulder. The warm cotton of his t-shirt was smooth and comforting against her lips.

“That smells really good, Dean. Boyfriend food is the best kind.” She felt his laugh in her chest, a quiet rumble that echoed between her ribs.

“Well, you seemed like you needed some R&R today. Go put your feet up, it’ll be ready in thirty minutes or so.”

Lisa did as she was told, collapsing in the old recliner that her father gave her when she moved out. _Honey, this is to remind you to put your feet up once in a while_. She missed his steadiness greatly, more than ever when Dean showed up on her doorstep almost four months previously and turned her entire view of the universe on its head. Dozing, she drifted far, out of her house and into a vivid dream of a field full of sunlight and swaying golden grasses. The sky was incredibly clear, and for a precious few seconds Lisa felt she was moving through it in all directions at once in perfect careless freedom from the laws of physics. Then Dean was shaking her gently, saying dinner was on the table and should he get Ben? Disoriented, Lisa nodded, blinking away the sleep and grasping desperately at the remnants of the dream.

If the dream meant something, Lisa couldn’t figure it out, but the vision seemed as familiar, somehow, as an old pair of shoes. Maybe she had seen that place before or maybe it was a composite of many places, but either way Lisa wished it hadn’t disappeared so quickly. There she thought she possessed a freedom from knowing, much like she tried to achieve in her personal yoga practice. Ben bounded down the stairs, interrupting her self-reflection and reminding her of the task at hand.

Dean was setting the table, with her son grabbing up a handful of napkins to help. He was chattering about the comic book he was reading, describing in great detail the entire piece of the storyline. Lisa joined them, ushered into her chair by Dean and served a heap of noodles and meat sauce. Dean was no master chef, but the things he did make were homey and unfussy and satisfying, a skill born out of need rather than careful study. Delaying the inevitable a bit longer, Lisa listened to Ben talk about his day, almost hoping he would bring up the issue at hand on his own, but he glossed over recess. He must have sensed what was coming at that point, his words taking on a nervous energy and a speed she had trouble following coherently. She caught Dean’s eye over the table as he was shoveling some spaghetti in his mouth, raising her eyebrows slightly in askance. Dean gave a miniscule shrug, which she took to mean ‘whenever you’re ready’. Ben was already finished, and if she didn’t move quickly he would disappear into his room again.

“Ben, I called Ms. Flannery. She said you got into a fight at recess today.” Lisa started, saying it all in a rush to get it over with.

His eyes went as round as saucers and his fork stopped moving the extraneous sauce around on his plate. “Oh, you know about that.” was all he seemed able to say for the moment.

“I’m not mad, but I am concerned. I…we…don’t want you to get hurt. What exactly happened?” Lisa could see him relax a little bit, but he was still obviously wary of getting into trouble.

“Derek, uhm, he tried to take my DS, so I kind of kicked him….” Ben finished his brief story mumbling and looking down at the table.

Lisa could see Dean trying very hard not to smile across the table, and she stepped on his foot. The whole thing sounded rather trivial after the events of recent months (Lisa was horribly tempted to chuckle herself, despite her displeasure), but she couldn’t let it go. She worried constantly about Dean’s influence on the impressionable Ben; her boyfriend’s frequently questionable, sometimes inappropriate advice got him into trouble more often than not. It scared her, how uncertain she was if her son would veer off into delinquency, if his behavior was normal or if the violence was going to become a pattern as he got older. “Kind of?” she prompted.

“In the crotch.” Ben mumbled into his plate.

Dean had to turn his head away and was obviously biting the inside of his lip hard. At least he was trying to respect her wish for solemnity, though Lisa was more relieved and uplifted than mad to see him genuinely amused by something. She put on her best disappointed mother face and sighed through a frown, hoping to distract Ben from catching on to Dean’s reaction. “I’m not going to ground you, but no videogames for two full weeks. And this better not happen again, Benjamin. You should go to the teacher if another kid is bullying you, not try to handle it yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mom,” Ben answered meekly, obviously not willing to jeopardize his soft punishment after what happened last time he got caught fighting. She could hear the relief in his voice and prayed it wouldn’t end up becoming a problem in the future.

“Why don’t you and I clean up, since Dean made dinner?” Dean had turned his gaze back to the table and she gave him a look that said _get out of here before you ruin everything_. Ben nodded, slightly dejected and started picking up his plate and silverware.

“Alright, I’m gonna work in the garage for a little while,” Dean said by way of escape. He grabbed a beer and disappeared, the corners of his lips still trying to contain a telling twitch. Lisa caught gave his arm a quick squeeze as they passed each other, silently letting him know she appreciated his effort. Lisa and her son worked side by side scraping plates and loading the dishwasher, the tension between them easing until they were talking about Ben’s plans for the weekend.

By ten o’clock she was unusually tired, reluctantly choosing bed over watching TV with Dean. He seemed antsy and she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to sleep until late, if at all, but he insisted she go to bed anyway. Before Lisa got through ten pages of her book she was fast asleep, the bedside light shining in her eyes morphing into the sun above the field of grasses.

__

Saturday, they dropped Ben off at his friend’s house for the afternoon, waving goodbye as she pulled away. The same CD was playing in the car when they had gotten in fifteen minutes previously, but she turned it off before Dean could tease her about her musical tastes. Quiet was what she wanted, with a view of the blues overhead through her windshield. Her entire body felt like it was expanding and coming apart slowly when she looked at it over the drying fields of tall tufted grass near the reservoir, and Lisa wondered if Dean felt like she did then all the time, so overwhelmed by the world passing outside the window. She wondered what it felt like to finally stop, if all his phantom parts snapped back into place under the gravity of standing still.

The turn in for the nature preserve came into view on the left, and she made a split decision to turn sharply into it. For once, Dean didn’t even twitch at her spontaneity, even when the minivan going the other way honked in irritation. He turned to ask her, “Don’t you have to go to work soon?”

“Not for another hour,” Lisa answered, feeling a little thrill as she pulled into to the parking lot. Just beyond the weathered fence was the field she dreamed of, full of whispering threads of grass and a cacophony of cicadas and the peaceful conversation of crickets. The tree line was far enough away that she could pretend the field went on forever. She should have recognized it before—the nameless area had been an accidental retreat once when Ben was younger and she never slept for working or caring for her child. It was usually popular with model airplane hobbyists and industrious children that made their own kites, but early afternoon was an off time at the end of August with school just starting up for the season. Back then Lisa had felt overwhelmed, unsure of where she was driving, with a baby in the car and a stack of overdue bills waiting at home. Now she stepped out of the car, a little older and a hell of a lot wiser than she ever thought she’d be at her age.

Dean followed, confused but amiable, and came to lean against the hood of Lisa’s car. “Too bad we didn’t bring a picnic.”

Lisa stood at the fence, arms crossed loosely over her middle. If she looked up, her stomach dropped like she was soaring through the warm August sky. “Yeah, that would have been nice.”

“What’s up, Lis? You seem out of sorts today.” Dean moved to sit on the fence instead, frowning. Backlit, she saw the outline of that freckly kid she had taken home one night what seemed like a hundred years ago, a startling illusion that only lasted a moment. If she had known then…would she have done anything differently? Maybe not, it would have seemed too impossible. Nobody knew what Dean had done, nobody knew that three and a half months ago this field almost wasn’t, the world almost wasn’t. Not Haley, not Ms. Flannery, not the minivan driver, not even Ben. _If only they did,_ Lisa thought.

“I guess…I’m just still trying to process all this,” Lisa answered, her hands fluttering in understated emphasis. “It all seemed so unbelievable at first, but I think it’s finally sinking in.” Leaning forward against the fence, she picked a stem of grass and twirled it between two fingers, watching the segmented end gyrate in the sunlight.

“Mn.” Dean wasn’t willing to talk, she knew that, but at least he seemed to be internalizing her words instead of shutting down.

“Nothing looks different, but it is different, right?” Lisa was still working on the how. Dean nodded vaguely looking like he was on the verge of going blank again, but he took her hand carefully. They both retreated to their private thoughts, Lisa not daring to guess what Dean was remembering. _If only they knew._


End file.
